


Between Breaths

by BeautifulThief



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Challenge Response, Ficlet Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 15:10:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2274441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifulThief/pseuds/BeautifulThief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of ficlets and drabbles originally written for AoKise on my tumblr.</p><p>5. Thunderstorms: Kise’s probably one of those romantic idiots who thinks kissing in the rain is anything other than cold and uncomfortable. (bps submission)<br/>6. Trolls (Pro-Gamer AU): Kise’s a huge troll, but it’s kind of hilarious. (bps submission)<br/>7. ABO AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Going Away to War AU

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for each ficlet will be in the chapter notes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written on 6/9/2014 for cerulean-city on tumblr who requested 'my favourite pairing from my gay basketball anime' for the AU ficlet meme: 
> 
> 29\. Going away to war AU
> 
> Warning for character death.

They’re both young and strong, with years of national-level sporting achievement under them. They’re ideal recruits - not that they really had any choice in the matter.

Neither of them really wants to be here, but they both felt that it would be too shameful not to, and they feel like they’re protecting the people they love; Aomine has Momoi to fight for, and Ryouta has his sisters.

And he also has Aomine.

Ryouta’s not sure if they’re going to make it out alive, but he’s willing to do everything to make sure that Aomine does. Ryouta could probably do any kind of work, from piloting to sniping; he’s adaptable and learns quickly, as long as he can see someone do it first, and his reflexes are insane. But he does everything he possibly can to keep by Aomine’s side, and even on the days Aomine pulls him aside to yell at him about how stupid he’s being, about the opportunities Ryouta has to escape the worst of the war with his talents, he refuses to budge.

 _I won’t go home without you._ It’s a prayer, a curse, a promise.

 

* * *

 

 

(The greatest tragedy is that neither one of them ever never really does come back from the war, at least not entirely; because Kise never did make it home, and part of Daiki was left behind in the last place he saw Kise alive in the moment before the blast swallowed him whole.)


	2. Nanny/Single Parent AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written on 6/9/2014 for cimberelly on tumblr for the AU ficlet meme:
> 
> 46\. nanny/single parent au

Daiki probably should have been worried that when he’d asked for Daichi’s opinion on all the nannies that had been interviewed, he’d immediately said _I liked Ryou-chan_ very enthusiastically.

The thing was, as a busy single father, Daiki had a lot on his plate, and even though he absolutely hated it, he couldn’t take care of Daichi the way he needed; his hours were long and he needed someone to ensure that Daichi got to and from school safely, and make sure he had breakfast and sometimes dinner. So a nanny was needed, and Daichi could be fussy, so if he liked one of them, well, Daiki was getting them.

Daiki didn’t remember that his first thought about Kise Ryouta had been _holy shit he’s gorgeous_ at the time he called him to tell him he’d gotten the job, but he _did_ remember it the morning Kise first arrived, and Daiki had to stumble through the quiet tour of the house and give Kise his own set of keys so that he could let himself in; and he remembered again when he came home to find Daichi hanging off Kise’s leg as Kise attempted to walk down the hall.

Daichi wasn’t the only one enraptured by his new nanny.

Daiki worried sometimes that Kise would notice the way that he looked at him when Kise had encouraged Daichi to run off and go brush his teeth or something; that Kise would notice that the few times Daiki had the occasion to touch him that they would linger a little longer than they ought. Daiki hadn’t been with anyone since the divorce with his ex-wife and Daichi’s mother; hadn’t been with a man since years before he’d gotten together with her, either. But there was something about the way Kise was like the living embodiment of sunshine, even when he looked worn down to the bone, that made Daiki ache to reach out and take him for his own.

But Daichi needed Kise more than Daiki did, so he buried the longing and smiled from afar.


	3. Teacher/Single Parent AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written on 7/9/2014 for two anons on tumblr for the AU ficlet meme:
> 
> 4\. teacher/single parent au

Ryouta hated parent-teacher meetings.

Natsuko took after him in a lot of ways; actually, sometimes he wondered if there was any of her mother in her at all. She definitely resembled him at age ten - she was an energetic, excitable child, constantly searching for stimulation.

Often her teachers would would talk to him about how she was disruptive, how she didn’t listen, how her grades suffered. Ryouta knew from experience how boring and uninteresting classwork could be - the apple _really_ hadn’t fallen very far from the tree - and even now he didn’t have an answer to the question of how to engage a child whose strengths funamentally led them away from academics.

So he wasn’t looking forward to this year’s meeting any more than he’d looked forward to any other meeting, as he strolled through the school halls. He ignored the way that some of the mothers openly looked him over; his priority these days was being Natsuko’s father, being as good a father he could to make up for her flighty and irresponsible mother.

(they’d been young starlets drunk on their rocketing fame; it had been an _accident_ , but Sakiko had refused to have the pregnancy terminated even though she didn’t want the child, and Ryouta wasn’t able to abide the idea of the child being dragged around the world with no sense of home or consistency with a parent who was barely more than a child herself. He wasn’t that much more mature or grown up than Sakiko at the time either, but…)

He arrived at the classroom listed on the handout Natsuko had brought home two weeks ago; there was no one waiting outside, but he could hear the murmur of voices inside. Clearly Natsuko’s teacher was still with the previous parents, so he sat down on the chair outside with a sigh.

It was a few minutes before the door opened, and a couple stepped out, thanking ‘Aomine-sensei’ for his time. Ryouta stood and knocked on the door as he entered.

"Yeah, come in, give me a second," was the distracted answer to his knock. It was just as well that the teacher was flicking through his files to find Natsuko’s, because Ryouta needed a minute to get over how attractive Natsuko’s teacher was.

(It was _definitely_ irresponsible to hit on your child’s teacher. _Definitely_. No matter how attractive and well-built he looked.)

He sat in the seat across from Aomine-sensei, and the man looked up and blinked.

"Just you?"

Ryouta bit back the flare of irritation that sparked. Aomine-sensei probably didn’t _mean_ to suggest he wasn’t enough for Natsuko; he was probably just wondering if they were waiting on another person to begin.

"Just me," he answered, and gave his best smile. "Natsu-chan’s mother isn’t around much."

Aomine hummed. “Okay.”

"I know Natsu-chan’s grades aren’t very good," Ryouta said, because that was where all these meetings started, and he wanted to get it out of the way. "And I know that she’s disruptive and can’t sit still and she can be loud. So if you’re just going to tell me she’s a problem child—"

"Natsuko’s not a problem child," Aomine interrupted. "Well, okay, she is, but not like…" He ran a hand through his hair. "She’s bored and has too much energy, yeah? She needs to find somewhere to expend some of it."

Ryouta sighed and slumped back into his chair. “I know,” he mumbled, “but she’s too much like me. Nothing keeps her challenged long enough. I had that problem at school too.” He bit his lip and then continued. “I really did hope she wouldn’t be a fast visual learner like I was, and then I hoped that maybe she’d be able to find a challenge where I never did playing with boys, but she’s running through sports just like I did.”

Aomine tapped his fingers on the desk, seeming somewhat lost in thought.”I might have an idea,” he finally said.

 

* * *

 

(It wasn’t until Natsuko’s elementary graduation that Ryouta took the chance to steal a kiss from Aomine-sensei; but, he decided in hindsight, it had been worth waiting for.)


	4. Waking Up With Amnesia AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written on 7/9/2014 for tormalyne on tumblr, for the AU ficlet meme:
> 
> 18\. waking up with amnesia au
> 
> This one is really angsty ;~;

He hasn’t seen Kise since the day he woke up in the hospital.

"He misses you," Tetsu tells him one afternoon.

"He doesn’t remember me to miss me."

The silence on the other end of the line is enough to know that it’s still true

.

_"I’m sorry - where am I? Where are my parents? Who are you?"_

.

Kise’s started playing basketball again because the doctors think the familiar environment will help him recover his memories, but when Daiki goes to watch the practice games, even though Kise’s body remembers what it’s doing, Kise himself never does, and there’s definitely something missing. Daiki tries to tell himself the missing thing is the memories, but deep inside he’s pretty sure he knows what’s gone.

Daiki has come to dread the thought of all of this year’s tournaments.

.

Adjusting to a life without Kise in it had been difficult in strange ways.

Daiki had gotten alarmingly used to checking his phone, so even though it never went off, he frequently opened it up, and found himself staring at the background Kise had set of the two of them, the one that he’d never quite been able to bring himself to delete or change, and the uneasy sense of loneliness that came from feeling disconnected from someone important felt almost like it would overwhelm him.

He noticed he played less basketball, because Kise wasn’t there firing off a hundred texts a minute asking to play on his free days, and that he avoided washing the few clothes he had left that Kise had worn until there was nothing left of him there at all.

All these things came with a sense of longing and desperation that he couldn’t quite shake.

.

Satsuki found him on the roof.

Sometimes he’d come back here, especially on the days where his body feels heavy and he doesn’t want to do anything. These days had been more frequent lately, and they both know it, but they haven’t really spoken about why.

At least, they haven’t yet.

She kicked him in the side.

"You’re not the only one who’s sad they’ve been forgotten," she said, and she probably meant it to come out shriek-y and angry, but she just sounds like she’s going to cry instead.

.

_The fire’s gone out_.

.

Satsuki and Tetsu dragged him to Kise’s house one weekend just after the Inter High preliminaries finish.

(Kaijou made it through, but Kise’s full potential didn’t spark even once)

Satsuki shoved a box and some flowers into his hands as Tetsu rung the bell, and he doesn’t want to know how she knows where he buys the cakes Kise likes but always says he shouldn’t eat because he’ll put on weight, and what flowers he gets Kise on special days, because he swears he’s never shown or told her about— _fucking Kise_.

And then he opened the door.

He’s as beautiful as he always is, and Daiki had to close his eyes to get the air back in his lungs. He smiled cheerfully at both Tetsu and Satsuki, but it’s obvious the recognition isn’t one from before.

This is why he didn’t want to come.

"We finally brought Dai-chan along!" Satsuki chirped as Kise stepped aside to let them in. "He’s being grumpy today, so don’t pay too much mind to his mood! He’s really missed you a lot!"

Kise looked at him curiously, and from the corner of his eye, Daiki could see Tetsu slip inside too - he always was very aware of when it was appropriate to make himself scarce - and Daiki looked away as he passed his offerings to Kise.

"It’s nice to meet you," Kise said. "I’ve heard a lot about you."

"I… yeah," he muttered, feeling awkward. How do you respond to that, coming from someone you love _so much,_ but to whom you are pretty much a stranger?

The desire to touch him was almost overpowering - instead of succumbing to the urge, Daiki followed Satsuki and Tetsu’s path into the house.

Kise followed him in, and seemed about to tell him where to go.

"It’s fine," Daiki said as he saw Kise opening his mouth to speak, and he’s probably being a little short with him, but this hurts, this hurts _a lot_. “I know where to go.”

"…Right," Kise laughed, a little awkwardly. "Of course. I’m going to put the flowers in a vase."

Daiki let himself fall onto the couch next to Sasuki with a heavy sigh and closed his eyes. If he did that, he could pretend Kise was doing what he always did, that things were the same - the sounds in the kitchen were painfully familiar.

When Kise returned with the flowers in his favourite vase, Daiki felt like this was an exercise in emotional torture, and cursed both Satsuki and Tetsu for doing this to him. He wanted to leave. He wanted to leave _right now_. He wasn’t ready for this, he couldn’t do this, sit here and pretend everything was okay and normal, like he wasn’t sitting here raw and _aching_ —

"Momocchi and Kurokocchi tell me you play basketball, Aominecchi?"

When Daiki looked at him, even Kise seemed confused by his use of the -cchi suffix, blinking almost bemusedly. His mouth and tongue know the shapes of his name said that way better than any other.

"Yeah," Daiki answered.

"We should play some time!" Kise said. "Everyone’s told me all these stories about you, you know? I’ve been really curious to meet you again."

"Maybe," Daiki muttered. "We’ll see. You’ve got my number, so use it."

.

Satsuki looked kind of guilty as they walked home.

"Dai-chan…"

"I don’t want to talk about it."

He heard her stop walking, and turned to look at her. She was crying again. Damn it.

"Dai-chan," she whispered. "I really hoped he’d remember."

"…Yeah," he mumbled. "Me too."

.

_"There’s something missing," he says. "And I can’t find it."_

_He doesn’t really remember his senior, but it doesn’t matter._

_Kasamatsu sighs. “You’re missing a lot of things, Kise,” he says, and he looks sad, too._

_Everyone always looks sad when they talk to him._

.

Daiki wasn’t not sure whether or not to be relieved or disappointed that Kise was on the other side of the Inter High bracket.

For one horribly hopeful moment, when Kise bounds up to him after his first match, Daiki let himself believe that Kise remembered.

"Oh man," Kise said, "they really weren’t exaggerating when they said you were amazing!"

_Stupid_ , he told himself, looking away and biting the inside of his cheek because the disappointment crashing through him is all his own fault, not Kise’s. _Why did you let yourself hope?_

"Thanks," he muttered.

.

He rocked up to the park they always played in reluctantly, because Kise was still Kise, and he was still hard to ignore and deny, and after he’d seen him play at the Inter High, he’d been begging desperately for Daiki to play against him.

(Kaijou got knocked out in the quarter finals against Yosen, and everyone only wished that they were surprised by the outcome.)

His heart feels like it’s been shredded and mangled into pieces, but it’s still so, _so_ weak to Kise Ryouta.

He let himself indulge in throwing his basketball at Kise’s head when he saw him sitting and kicking his legs on the bench near the basketball court. Maybe it’s childish, but he’s still hurting, and, well. Surely the others have all told him that Daiki used to pick on him something shocking.

Kise grabbed at the back of his head, and that predictable, signature whine began to start at the back of his throat when, abruptly, it was cut off.

Daiki’s heart caught in his throat and his breathing stopped as Kise turned slowly to look at him, eyes widened.

"…Aominecchi?"

"…Idiot," he choked out around the thickness that was making it hard to breathe, "has no one seriously given your stupid ass a good knock on the head?"

Kise laughed, but it was a strangely wet noise. “That’s Aominecchi’s job, isn’t it? Ah, don’t cry! You’ll make me start crying too!”

"Too late," Daiki muttered, but whether he was talking about himself or about Kise couldn’t be clear, because when Kise descended on him and Daiki latched onto him harder than he could ever remember doing before, he was pretty sure they were both crying.


	5. Thunderstorms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kise’s probably one of those romantic idiots who thinks kissing in the rain is anything other than cold and uncomfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Submitted on 31/10/2014 to basketballpoetsociety's Challenge No. 95: Character Battle for Kise.

Daiki discovers that Kise loves thunderstorms one afternoon as they’re racing towards his house in the pouring rain because they were distracted by basketball, and didn’t realise or remember it was supposed to rain today until they started getting hit by raindrops.

Kise is laughing between breaths as they run, and he has one of those honest, excited smiles on his face; the rain is getting steadily heavier and they’re going to be completely soaked by the time they reach Daiki’s house. Daiki’s not entirely sure _why_ Kise is enjoying this so much – _he_ is cold and soggy and can’t wait to get back so he can get under a hot shower and warm up again.

 When they finally get to his house, Daiki fumbles with the key because he’s shivering, and Kise’s laughter subsides a little even as he looks longingly back out at the rain. Kise’s probably one of those romantic idiots who thinks kissing in the rain is anything other than cold and uncomfortable. Daiki’s about to tell him there’s no fucking way he’s going back out in the rain even though he’s already wet when the sky lights up. Kise’s smile doesn’t falter as the rumble of thunder rolls over them moments later. If anything, it gets bigger.

He finally gets the key into the lock and opens the door, and he has to yank Kise inside because he’s too busy searching the sky for more lightning to pay attention to the fact that the door is open.

It’s rare that Aomine has to fight to get Kise out of his clothes. Well, usually they’re in the middle of a completely different kind of mood when he’s trying to get Kise naked. Right now, though, he just wants to get Kise out of his wet things so he doesn’t get himself sick. Kise gets at _least_ a hundred times more annoying and whiny when he’s sick, and Aomine’s phone is usually his victim of choice for complaints.

Kise won’t come away from the window, which is also annoying. He’s searching the sky for more lightning, and he wriggles every time the sky lights up. God, he’s frustrating. They both need to get clean, because they’d been playing for ages and they’re covered in sweat. Usually Kise’s the first to start complaining about how disgusting he feels.

Also, Daiki’s already got his own shirt off, and he’s a little annoyed that it doesn’t seem to have as much of Kise’s attention as it usually does. He’s being ignored for a goddamn _thunderstorm_.

“Kise,” he growls.

“Sorry, Aominecchi,” Kise says. But he doesn’t take his eyes away from the sky. “I just really love the lightning, you know?”

“No,” Daiki grunts in response. “Get your damn clothes off, idiot.”

“Always in such a hurry, Aominecchi,” Kise teases, but he’s still not _looking_ at him, for fuck’s sake. “If you wanted it that bad, you should have said so, and we would have stayed here and—“

Daiki doesn’t let him finish his sentence, because Kise has to know that he’s saying stupid shit. He smacks the back of his head.

“Wet things off.”

Kise pouts, but finally, _finally_ starts shedding his soaked clothes.

“I want to watch for a while,” he says, standing there quite shamelessly clothes-less and enraptured by the way the sky was lighting up. Why does Daiki like him so much? It’s completely beyond him sometimes.

“Don’t stand in front of the window naked,” is all he says. “If someone gets a picture I won’t be sorry for you.”

“You’re not going to get me clothes?” Kise makes his best attempt at a puppy dog expression. He’s very good at it, too, aided by his usual adopted air of ‘excited puppy’, but Daiki’s seen too much of Kise by now to be fooled by this trick.

“You know where they are. Get them yourself,” he answers. “I’m not dumb enough to want to stand around cold watching the sky. I’m getting in the shower.” There is an implicit suggestion there that Kise should join him, but for once, he doesn’t.

 

* * *

 

 

Kise gets sick despite Daiki’s efforts. Next time, he thinks as he turns off his phone because it won’t stop buzzing, he’ll just leave Kise outside to freeze to death. When he’s dead, he won’t be so annoying anymore, and Daiki’s _pretty_ sure that he’ll eventually stop grieving and find a normal person to date.


	6. Trolls (Pro-Gamer AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kise’s a huge troll, but it’s kind of hilarious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Submitted on 1/11/2014 to basketballpoetsociety's Challenge No. 95: Character Battle for Kise. More pre-AoKise than actual AoKise.

He’s spectating Kise’s game.

Really, what he wants to be is _playing_ with Kise, either on the team or against. Playing with Kise is always _hilarious_. There’s something missing, spectating like this – he can’t see team or all chat, where Kise is undoubtedly talking the most ridiculous amount of shit like he always does, even in official games.

Even though he’s been doing it for years, there are still some people who still can’t tune him and his endless stream of bullshit out, and get infuriated by it. That’s why Kise does it, of course; he loves the reaction. It was better in the old days when they weren’t all so well established, the days  when the opposing team would form a death squad with a singular hive mind set only on blowing up Kise’s champion; it doesn’t happen so much anymore, but occasionally someone will break and just go batshit trying to kill Kise.

The problem with that is that Kise is incredible. He doesn’t outplay quite as hard as Daiki himself does, but it’s a pretty close thing. (His fails are incredible too. Daiki loves watching Kise fuck up as well. Kise’s always infuriatingly good at laughing it off, and Daiki likes the way he looks when he’s smiling the way he does after a particularly bad fail in solo queue; it’s never an embarrassed look, it’s always genuine delight at the ridiculousness of how badly he messed up.)

He wants to see what trash Kise is talking, but he’s not streaming; either he’s forgotten to, or he looks or feels like shit and doesn’t want to show his adoring fans.

Kise’s always been pretty popular. Even before he established himself as a personality for this game, he’d been popular on another, and even though he’d decided to change games, his fanbase hadn’t even dropped him. Daiki occasionally envied how photogenic Kise was even over webcams. _He_ looked like a serial killer when he streamed.

Daiki didn’t get what sucked people in about Kise other than that ridiculously nice looking face (what was it that sucked _him_ in about Kise, then?), but it was what it was.

He closed the spectator window and sighed. Queueing with Kise would mean waiting forever for a game with their combined rankings, unless Midorima got on with his duo partner, which was unlikely, because somehow the bastard managed to keep ‘normal people’ hours.

Also Kise would be insufferable about him asking to queue together.

Maybe if Daiki was lucky, the queue gods would pit them against each other.


	7. ABO AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M JUST GOING TO THROW MYSELF OUT NOW I'M SO TRASHY OH MY GOD. This is all ninanna's fault. This was never going to see the light of day.
> 
> WARNINGS: Explicit for smut, even though it's short; A/B/O dynamics with omega!Aomine and alpha!Kise
> 
> ...yes that _does_ mean this is kiao
> 
> if no one talks to me about this ever I'll probably be okay with that tbh oh my god i'm so ashamed of myself lmao

_Shit._

Aomine is heavy. It’s really inconvenient, at times like this; Ryouta would have a much easier time carrying a smaller, more petite body, like that of a more typical Omega. As it is, he’s lugging about 85 kilos of enormous basketball player around.

85 kilos of enormous basketball player _in heat._

It’s triggering his own rut, of course; how could it _not_ , when his mate was literally all over him like this?

“Aominecchi,” he tried, “we’re still in the sports complex.”

“Don’t care,” was the immediate, expected answer. He was nuzzling against Kise’s neck, and it was _really_ distracting.

“Aominecchi,” Ryouta tried again, feeling rather desperate, “this is really not a good place for this.”

“Still don’t care,” is the only thing he got from his very stubborn boyfriend, and then Aomine’s teeth were latching into his skin, and it took pretty much all of Ryouta’s power to not just say _to hell with it_ and find the nearest empty room.

“We need to get _out_ of here,” he whined. It’s not just sensible; the Alpha in him doesn’t want to risk the chance of someone else getting to smell Aomine like this, of someone foolishly attempting to contest him for Aomine. He’d win, of course, but well.

He’d rather avoid it.

“Aominecchi, come on, I promise I’ll do whatever you want when I get you home, just please, _please_ , you need to cooperate. You’re enormous and heavy!”

“Is that a promise, Kise?” Aomine asked. Ryouta’s complaints have not inspired him to get off from where he’s draped over Ryouta’s back. “ _Whatever_ I want?”

Ryouta can’t see his face, but he could pretty much _hear_ the smirk in Aomine’s voice, and well, Ryouta’s knees _really_ couldn’t afford to be weak right now, but they totally would be if they could.

“Aominecchi, this is not the time or place!”

One foot in front of the other. It’s all he can afford to think about right now. The halls are practically empty, since there’s an ongoing match, and it’s a good thing too; while the fact that Aomine is an Omega isn’t a _secret_ , it’s not something the other boy usually liked to broadcast, and even Ryouta’s powerful Alpha scent wouldn’t be able to mask the fact he was currently going into, arguably already was _in_ , heat.

“Clearly,” Aomine responded, his voice surprisingly dry, “it _is_ , since I’m going into heat.”

Ryouta sighed as heavily and dramatically as he possibly could while weighed down with two bags and the very large burden of Aomine Daiki. “You’re so lucky I don’t just ditch you here and leave you.” He never could, though, and they both know it; Ryouta was quite territorial, and he’d never give Aomine up now that he had him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Aomine said, and his voice was breathy in Ryouta’s ear. “Come on, pretty boy. I’m dying here.”

“You’re not _dying_ ,” Ryouta groaned. “You’re _also_ not helping me get you out of here.”

“Just fuck me here already, Kise,” Aomine said, as if it was _no big deal_ , and he was nosing at Ryouta’s ear, the pierced one. He tugged on the jewellery with his teeth. “Need it.”

“What we _need_ ,” Kise said, “is some _privacy_.” And for Aomine to stop sucking on his ear like that, _god_. The combination of attacks (purposeful and not) was _really_ messing with his ability to hold onto his single-minded mission to get out of here.

He felt Aomine shrug on his back. “Anything’ll do at this point, I feel like I’m going to burst into flames if you don’t fuck me like _right now_.”

“Your timing is _so bad_ ,” Ryouta gasped out, because hearing him speak like that, with _that_ voice right in his ear, it made his head feel like it was spinning. He was definitely losing his inner battle with his hormones. Every step he took felt like an eternity. “Why did it have to be _now_? There’s a tournament going on.”

Aomine shifted against his back, and Ryouta could feel his dick, hard and amazing and _fuck_ , no, he was not allowed to think about that if he wanted to get Aomine out of here.

“Not my fault,” Aomine muttered, and then the bastard _wriggled_ against Ryouta’s back. Probably attempting to relieve the pressure he was feeling. God it was cruel though; there’s no relief for Ryouta’s discomfort. “I took my medication and everything. Shouldn’t have happened at all. Just saw you there and smelled you and it was like _boom_.”

Ryouta groaned. “This better be over by the time we have to face someone we’re needed for.”

Aomine bit his shoulder, and then ran his tongue over the skin. “Not facing Murasakibara for a few days yet. You?”

Ryouta had to think _hard_ to bring the tournament brackets back to his mind; it was difficult to distract himself from Aomine’s mouth and body and dick when his whole existence seemed to be working very hard to convince his brain it was pretty much created solely to screw him. “I think we have Midorimacchi, but I can’t remember when. Not today or tomorrow though.”

“You’re fine then,” Aomine said into his ear. “You wouldn’t have been playing anyway.”

No, but that wasn’t the _point_. It was a bad look for the ace to not even sit on the _bench_ when he wasn’t needed. Maybe Aomine was okay with that, but it wasn’t the kind of ace Ryouta was.

“Awful,” Ryouta told him. “We’re almost at the exit. How decent are you?”

“It’s gonna be messy. You’ll have to pay the cab driver extra for cleaning.”

Ryouta sighed. If they didn’t fuck in the back seat of the cab, it was going to be a miracle; at this point, he was going to have to rely on his instinct to guard and protect Aomine while they were still outside and exposed, not safely ensconced somewhere no one would be able to get at them, and hope that their proximity to the cab driver wouldn’t drive him to prove his claim to this person who dared get close.

If their luck was any good at all – doubtful, considering what was going on; Ryouta would pay money that their signs were ranked rock bottom today on Oha Asa, and fully expected Midorima to say something exactly in that vein next time he saw them – but _if_ they collectively had any luck at all between the two of them right now, the cab driver would be a Beta or an Omega. 

Ryouta might try to rip a rival Alpha apart if they approached Aomine right now.

Aomine was rubbing up harder against him as they approached an exit, and then Ryouta saw a bathroom on the right, and well...

He hadn’t called a cab yet. He’s been a bit hands-less, with their bags and Aomine on his back in such an awkward way. And he’d rather not have them standing outside waiting.

But damn it. He’d been trying so hard, and was Aomine even _on_ a contraceptive? Ryouta was going to have to get an emergency one, even if Aomine was – but Ryouta suspected he wasn’t, considering Aomine’s bad track record for remembering to take his suppressants – since he just doesn’t know for sure, and like hell is he knocking up Aomine now. Both of their parents would _kill him_.

“ _Finally_ ,” Aomine groaned when Ryouta pushed into the bathroom.

“We can’t stay here,” Ryouta said, but Aomine’s already removed his deadweight from Ryouta’s back and when Ryouta turned to look at him, his gaze was hot and heavy-lidded.

“Of course not.” Aomine pretty much purred at him and _god_ , Ryouta wanted him _so bad_ —

Phone. Cab.

“Aominecchi,” he tried, and Aomine shoved him into the bathroom stall.

“Can’t wait,” Aomine muttered, and his hands were _everywhere_ , though he was less concerned with Ryouta’s shirt and jacket than he usually would be, and much more preoccupied with getting Ryouta’s pants down.

Then Aomine’s hands were _in_ his pants and Ryouta couldn’t help the way his head tipped back and a strangled noise escaped as Aomine’s hand worked on him.

“Thank fuck,” Aomine muttered. “The way you were going on, I thought maybe you weren’t...”

Ryouta’s not really concerned with Aomine’s strange insecurity at this point. He’s much more concerned with the fact he can’t get Aomine’s pants off while he’s wearing his shoes. “Off,” he said. “Unless you think my fingers are going to be enough.”

Aomine bit his neck. Probably a reprimand for daring to tease him in this state. “No.”

Yeah, he hadn’t thought so.

Aomine kicked off his shoes, and Ryouta used his preoccupation with the task to shove his hands into Aomine’s pants.

His fingers sunk easily into the hot, wetness of Aomine’s body and they both shuddered. Aomine’s fingers made fists in his hair as he groaned. The sound went pretty much straight to Ryouta’s dick, which was pretty much impossible to ignore now. He needed to be inside Aomine now almost as badly as Aomine wanted him inside him.

Thank god Aomine didn’t need prepping when he was like this. Or well, that’s what they tell you about Omegas in heat. This was the first time Ryouta had actually witnessed it.

“Up or down?” Ryouta asked. Aomine answered him by shoving him back, and Ryouta only barely had the presence of mind to make sure that the seat was down before he was pushed to sit.

Aomine’s heaviness settled on his thighs almost immediately, and his hands went back to making fists in and tugging on Ryouta’s hair, and he pulled him into a messy, violent kiss. He was making a complete mess of Ryouta’s shirt too, Aomine’s precome leaking copiously onto it, and the slickness of his body was dripping onto Ryouta’s legs and _fuck_ he was so hot and why did Ryouta like that he was so _big_ it was _weird_ right—

“ _Ryouta_ ,” Aomine moaned and oh _god_ he needed to. He _needed to_ —

“Daiki,” Ryouta pretty much whimpered and he’ll be embarrassed later, because he just needed to fuck Aomine _right now_. He wasn’t thinking anymore, not that anyone usually said much about his brain activity in the first place. Ryouta’s hands grabbed at Aomine, and he can’t move all that much with the way that Aomine had pretty much all his weight on him, but he could lean back and he could hold Aomine apart so that somehow between the two of them they could finally, _finally_ get Ryouta inside him and—

“Oh shit,” Ryouta said, “oh shit, _oh shit_.”

It should be really awkward. It really, really should be, with their positioning, and neither of them can move particularly easily or freely; but because they’re both so gone on their hormones it just felt like the most ridiculously amazing thing to ever happen ever in Ryouta’s entire life. One of his hands stayed where it was on Aomine’s ass, because it’s so hot feeling the way the muscles move, but the other is more preoccupied with Aomine’s dick, since Aomine’s own hands were practically pulling Ryouta’s hair out as he rode him.

Of course Aomine would be on top somehow – this thought is surprisingly clear through the haze of desperation to just be buried as deep inside Aomine as possible.

It quickly became apparent that it really sucked not being able to move much, but the position also had him pretty deep inside Aomine, so Ryouta wasn’t going to complain or attempt to force a position shift to fuck Aomine against the stall door. And Aomine’s hands in his hair felt good, even though his scalp stung with how hard he was yanking on it.

He wasn’t sure how close Aomine was; the pace he’d set was hard and fast, and his head was tipped back now and it was _really sexy_ , and god he was just way too much... Ryouta had been doing his best to drive up into the way Aomine drops down, but he was also super conscious about the knot that was forming and how they _really_ can’t afford to be stuck here together, even though the way Aomine was angling himself clearly indicated that he wanted it.

Ryouta wanted it too - his instincts were screaming at him - but they were also screaming that neither of them was _safe_ here, that anyone could come in at any time and he wouldn’t be able to protect Aomine when they were knotted together. So he shifted to sit up more, and Aomine made a frustrated groaning noise, because he’d made their angle impossible for what he wanted; but Aomine’s dick was now pressed up between their stomachs and Ryouta grabbed his ass to grind them together and hoped to god Aomine was as close as he thought he was.

His prayers were rewarded when he felt Aomine shudder and spasm around him, and he could feel the warmth of his release on his shirt. It set off Ryouta in turn; and everything was hot and felt so good, and he wanted it to last forever.

And then they were breathing each other’s air, foreheads rested together for a moment, before Aomine lifted off of him, and Ryouta groaned.

“As much as I would love to go again,” Aomine said, “weren’t you the one saying we can’t stay here?”

That was the most unfair part. All he really wanted to do now was shove Aomine up against the door and fuck him again, because he was still hard even though he just came, and Aomine was too. He could _see_ it.

How did Aomine have more of his brain back than Ryouta did.

It was just so _unfair_.

“Yes,” Ryouta admitted. “We can’t. We need to leave. I- I need to call a cab.”


End file.
